And when the flight attendant approached, he practically shoved them toward her.
“LOOK WHAT THIS WOMAN DID TO MY SOCKS!”
The attendant glanced at the messages.
Then at me.
Then at his feet.
Her expression became very still.
“Sir,” she said, “are these the socks I asked you to remove earlier?”
Captain Compost hesitated.
“Yes. But that’s not the point!”
The flight attendant looked at the napkins again.
“Were the socks hanging over the seat after I asked you to remove them?”
He shifted his weight.
“They were still wet.”
“Sir, that’s not what I asked.”
The teenage girl across the aisle buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.
Captain Compost pointed at me.
“She put things inside my clothes!”
“I tucked two sealed notes into the cuffs,” I said. “I shouldn’t have touched his belongings. I understand that.”
The attendant nodded.
“Thank you for acknowledging that.”
